


I Wanna Taste Her Lips

by herecutie (realeyesrealize)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, The X Factor Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realeyesrealize/pseuds/herecutie
Summary: Louis drove him crazy, in all the ways one could imagine. It was frustrating, it was soul-crushing, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. He felt like he could explode, watching Louis and Hannah together.or: Hannah visits Louis at the X Factor house and Harry can't take it anymore. Featuring a pining Harry, a confused Louis, a supporting Niall, an oblivious Zayn and a very serious Liam.





	I Wanna Taste Her Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Please suspend your disbelief for any inaccuracies you might encounter, details from the competition and the boys' stay in the house have been slightly altered to fit the plot. Thanks to @polkadotsvstripes on tumblr for beta reading x
> 
> The second part will be uploaded sometime in the next two weeks. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Title from Girl Crush by Little Big Town.

Harry stared and stared and stared. It seemed like that was all he could do these days. He could touch too, touch all he wanted, but never in the way he actually wanted, in the way he craved late at night, behind closed doors. 

Louis drove him crazy, in all the ways one could imagine. It was frustrating, it was soul-crushing, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. He felt like he could explode, watching Louis and Hannah together. The way he kept his hand on the curve of her lower back, the way he kissed her - the soft press of his lips on her, chaste. He smelled her hair whenever they hugged, a smile playing on his lips at the scent of her shampoo. He kept her close at all times, as much as he could in public, making up for lost time. But Louis had requested they be allowed to stay in one of the spare rooms for the night, so it seemed like proper making up for lost time was going to happen regardless. 

But maybe, just maybe, there was something in the way Louis was avoiding his gaze, in the way he hadn’t talked to Harry since Hannah had arrived at the house. 

But Harry needed to stop that train of thought. He needed to stop analysing everything. His search for clues, for a stray bit of hope, was pathetic, and he was perfectly aware of it. He could see the stares he got, not from Louis, but from the other boys. Stares of confusion, of realisation, of pity. At one point he might have even seen disgust, but he couldn’t be sure. Just like he couldn’t be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, making up a pull on his heart whenever he looked at Louis, whenever they touched, for some sick reason. 

He was 16 and he’d never felt anything like that. Let alone for a boy. He was 16, for fuck’s sake. That was too young to be feeling so much.

It was worse when night came, when he let himself think that Louis was his, in every way. Because after the climax always came the disappointment. It wasn’t Louis’s hand, it was his. Because as much as he wanted his daydreams (and night dreams) to become true, there was no way to project them into reality. 

He had to get out. 

He pushed the covers to the bottom of his bunk bed. It was late in the competition, which thankfully meant that they didn’t have to share rooms anymore. Still, Harry and Louis shared a room every night, which made tonight even more tragic for Harry. 

He walked the short way to the kitchen. It was pitch black, save for the stray rays of garden lights coming in the windows. He switched on the small lights above the kitchen cupboards. A yelp followed immediately. Harry looked over to the source, although he could never not know whose voice that was. 

“Jesus. You scared me, Harry.” 

Louis was sitting in one of the stools by the breakfast bar with a cup of tea. The first thing Harry noticed was that he looked tired, run down. He was wearing the same white polo he had been wearing before he’d gone to bed but inside-out. Harry cringed internally at the thought of Louis undressing for Hannah, even though he knew perfectly well Louis slept in only his boxers. If someone had asked him a few months ago, Louis sleeping almost naked was a blessing, their late-night cuddles feeling even more intimate because of that reason; now, however, he would give a completely different answer. 

“Sorry, I just wanted some water. What are you doing up anyway?” Harry asked as he opened the fridge and grabbed a water bottle. 

“Couldn’t sleep. You?” 

“Couldn’t sleep either. Too much on my mind.” He was standing opposite Louis on the other side of the breakfast bar. It allowed him to take a good look at Louis, who still seemed to struggle meeting his eyes. He had a small bruise forming on his neck, right next to his Adam’s apple. Something twisted in Harry’s stomach. He bit his lip and tried to stop words from coming out, words that he would surely regret in the morning.

“Are you thinking about the semi-finals?” Louis asked while still looking at his cup of tea, like its contents were going to tell him the answers to whatever was troubling him. 

Harry paused to think about his reply. Semi-finals were a few days away, and, sure, he was scared. But not for the reasons Louis probably expected. He was scared they were going to get sent home, that he wouldn’t be able to see Louis everyday, that whatever was going on between them would fizzle out without answers, that the spark between them would never catch fire. But he couldn’t tell that to Louis. 

“Yes, kind of. Everything seems scary at this point, if I’m honest. I want us to do great, but I’m so afraid of what’s to come, too.” 

“I get it. I want us to win, but what if we don’t? What will happen then? I left school for this, Harry. I don’t want to lose everything.” 

“You wouldn’t lose anything. This competition will open so many doors for us, it wouldn’t be the end if we lost. Plus, you’d still… you’d still have us.” 

Louis smiled softly at that, his gaze focused on the marble on the breakfast bar, as if analysing its patterns. Harry knew Louis was probably not going to comment on how he wouldn’t lose them, that being scared of the competition and stepping away from the life he’d built here was probably not the only thing that is troubling him, even if he wouldn’t speak about it. 

Harry wished he could do something to help Louis. He looked so miserable, even more than before Harry had started talking to him. He was used to being able to comfort Louis by being tactile, cuddling him the nights when Louis missed home the most, when he wished it was his mum’s arms around him instead of Harry’s. And it made him feel helpless. Which was why he took a chance. 

“D’you want a cuddle?” 

Louis’s face grew somber as soon as Harry’s words left his mouth. He started playing with the cup, tapping his fingers against the sides of it. 

“I can’t leave Hannah alone all night,” he responded. 

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. A tight knot was beginning to form on his throat. He moved his eyes to settle on the hickey on Louis’s neck. It was staring right at him, challenging him. Suddenly, he couldn’t take it anymore. The image of Hannah sucking on his caramel skin was stuck in his mind as if being projected from the back of his head. 

“Did you fuck?” It was out before Harry could help himself. 

Harry’s words seemed to shake Louis out of his thoughts and he finally met Harry’s eyes. He was surprised, Harry could tell, his mouth slightly open with a shocked expression. He immediately lowered his gaze again. 

“No.” He bit his lip. Pushing the cup out of his reach, he said, “I think I’m gonna go back to bed.” 

Louis stood up and walked around the breakfast bar until he was standing right in front of Harry, who immediately reached out to him. They embraced for a few seconds, feeling each other’s warmth. They fit like puzzle pieces. And Harry could swear that, for a second, he felt Louis smelling his hair, just like he’d done to Hannah just a few hours back. 

“We’ll be alright,” Louis said as he let go of Harry. “See you in the morning.”

*

Harry woke up at 8am the next morning. All the pressure he was carrying on his shoulders started to wear him down the minute he got out of bed. He tried to stretch it out but his muscles were having none of it, a dull ache plaguing him all around his body from the terrible night of sleep he’d had.

He had gone to bed an hour after Louis left the kitchen. At first he’d drowned himself in the sensations Louis’s hug had triggered - the butterflies in his tummy, the electric shock that ran through his veins, the warmth that spread across his chest. But then he’d been rudely brought down to reality by noise coming out of one of the rooms. He recognized the sounds and, worst of all, he recognized the voices that came with it. 

He felt like an intruder listening in, probably because he was, he told himself, so he left, covering his ears like a kid. 

It took him awhile to fall asleep after that and when he did nightmares invaded his brain. He dreamt about them being kicked out of the competition, about Louis never speaking to him again. Going home and being back in Barbara’s bakery, which turned into a slaughterhouse. He woke up when he was being chased by Barbara herself, a huge chainsaw in her hands, ready to kill him. 

Making his way down to the kitchen again, he ran into Zayn. 

“Oi, did you hear Louis and Hannah last night? Bastard made it impossible for me to sleep,” Zayn said. 

Harry faked a laugh and hoped to God that was all he’d have to hear about the subject. 

The kitchen was already quite full as they walked in, everyone trying to get in some breakfast as quick as possible as they were scheduled to meet with the coaches in half an hour. Louis was absent, which, for the first time since they’d known each other, relieved Harry. He didn’t know if he’d be able to take seeing him all over Hannah again. Not after last night’s events. 

Louis showed up just as rehearsals were about to start. Simon sent a death glare his way and that was the end of it. He was wearing a striped t-shirt, red and white, that showed off his tanned skin. Harry looked down and what he saw almost made him pass out. Louis’s ass looked the best it had ever looked in the pair of white skinny jeans he was wearing. Harry swore he died and gone to heaven right then and there just from looking at the roundness nothing more but to touch it. 

Harry had a love-hate relationship with Louis’s ass, mainly because Louis sometimes unconsciously pressed it against his front when they slept together. And Harry was only a teenager, so obvious things happened, and he then had to spend a ridiculous amount of time thinking about Simon Cowell’s sweaty pec implants to will his erection down. 

“Harry! Fuck’s sake, Harry, listen to me,” Simon shouted, shaking him out of his dangerous thoughts. He silently thanked Simon; popping a boner in the middle of rehearsals wasn’t one of his goals for the day. 

“You’re singing the bridge, okay? Then the other boys will join you in the chorus.” 

The rest of the rehearsal ran as smoothly as one would have hoped when they were dealing with five teenagers. Louis still didn’t seem himself, not making jokes when Harry would’ve imagined his high voice chiming in, making them all laugh with his silly sense of humour. Sometimes Harry waited for a punchline whenever something funny happened, but it never came. 

Louis retreated to the room he’d stayed in the night before as soon as rehearsals were over. Hannah was leaving that same afternoon, so Harry imagined Louis wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. He felt the already familiar pang in his tummy, but he ignored it. He would dwell in it later, when no one else could see the tears springing from his eyes, hear his choked sobs, and feel his trembling body. For now, lunch. That he could do. 

“Louis seems weird,” Liam said accusingly as soon as they were seated at the table, the feast in front of them worthy of the richest king, courtesy of the amazing catering company X Factor had hired. 

As selfish as it was–Harry felt like being selfish was all he did lately– Harry was relieved. It wasn’t his imagination then, it wasn’t his mind making something up to torture him any more that he was already being tortured, people were also noticing how Louis didn’t seem like himself. His usually cheerful expression had been replaced by a somber one, bags under his eyes and a frown adorning his pretty face. He wasn’t cracking jokes, he wasn’t teasing the boys, he was just _there_ and one wouldn’t even notice him if they weren’t looking. 

“Cut him some slack, Liam. We’re all scared shitless, we’ve got a lot going on,” Zayn chimed in. Out of all of them, he was the most rational. He’d been the mediator in many fights between Louis and Liam, especially during the first weeks of the competition when the bad mouthing and bickering was constant. Harry had tried to reason with Liam, tell him he needed to chill out, but, ultimately, he was too biased. In the end, it had been Zayn along with Niall who sat them down and told Liam he needed to take things less seriously and Louis that he needed to at least act like he took things more seriously. Of course, Harry knew how Louis felt, how serious this competition was for him. 

“I’m just saying I don’t want him to ruin our performances just because he’s in a funk and can’t focus,” Liam replied. 

“Give him some time, Liam. Maybe Harry can talk to him and try to work it out,” Niall suggested. 

At the mention of his name, Harry raised his head and tried to appear as if he hadn’t been listening to the whole conversation while feigning interest in the contents of his plate so he wouldn’t have to participate. 

“I was saying you could talk to Louis, see what’s been troubling him,” Niall supplied when he noticed Harry’s expression. 

“Yeah, I can do that.” 

Niall sent a knowing look his way and Harry pretended not to see it. Harry pretended a lot lately.

*

A “Good luck, boys. See you in the final!” and a wink later, Hannah left the X Factor house, Louis trailing beside her to properly say goodbye, the taxi waiting in the driveway. She’d hugged all the boys before opening the door. Harry had welcomed her arms around him, even though it made him feel like the worst person on the face of the Earth. Those arms had been around Louis in the most intimate situations. Harry wanted to be them, wanted to be her.

Louis went straight to bed when he came into the house again. It was only 7pm. Technically, they were done with rehearsals for the day and they were free to do whatever they wanted, but Tuesdays were unofficially movie night (Aiden’s idea), and Louis never missed one. Niall, from where he was sitting on the sofa, gave Harry an encouraging nod. 

Harry silently cursed him and walked the short distance from the huge living room to the room he shared with Louis. His mind was racing. So was his heart. He was scared, scared of what he could find out. 

When he opened the door to the room, the first thing he noticed was the darkness. Louis had closed the blinds and turned off the lights. It took a while before Harry’s eyes could see anything, and when he did, he recognized a Louis-shaped bump under the covers of Harry’s own bed. Louis was facing the wall, his head mostly covered by the duvet. He was hiding from the world; Harry could understand. 

As silently as he could, Harry took off his clothes, leaving only his boxers on, and tapped what he guessed was Louis’s shoulder, a silent request for him to budge over. Louis complied. 

Warmth enveloped Harry as soon as he got under the covers. The familiar smell of his own bed mixed with Louis’s familiar smell, sweet from the shampoo no one else knew he used, the coconut one from Herbal Essences that reminded him of home, of his sisters. He wasted no time curling around Louis, who was in a fetal position. Harry’s knees met the back of Louis’s and he wrapped his arms around him. Louis was only wearing boxers too. The butterflies in Harry’s tummy went crazy. 

They stayed silent for what felt like ages but probably was just a few minutes. Harry felt Louis move in slow motion - tentative, careful. His right arm bumped into Harry’s side on his way up. Harry could feel a trail of sparks follow where Louis touched him. He felt so much he imagined his skin lighting up, little stars appearing where Louis’s skin met his. Finally, Louis’s arm finished its journey and lined up on top of Harry’s. Harry turned around his palm to hold his hand. He didn’t know if he’d done it because he was desperate to chase the warmth of Louis’s skin or because he needed to hold on to something for dear life to avoid levitating right then and there. 

“I don’t think I can do it,” came Louis’s soft voice. He was whispering, as if he was trying to keep his words under the covers, a secret for Harry and for Harry only. 

Harry squeezed his hand as he asked, “The competition?” 

Louis turned around then, facing Harry, looking at him with those ocean blue eyes that Harry saw in dreams. 

“I’m scared.” 

Harry was drowning. He was drowning in blue and there was nothing he could do about it. 

“Of what?” he whispered back. He was still holding Louis’s hand. They were at an awkward angle now, but he wasn’t letting go. 

“There’s a lot on my mind. I… I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what I should feel.” His voice was coming softer and softer with each confession. Harry found himself trying to read his lips to understand him, but it quickly became obvious that was a very dangerous move. He forgot everything else, the sounds of the other contestants outside the room just a buzz. He could only see Louis’s lips, red from where he’d obviously been biting them earlier. He wanted his own lips on them so bad, to taste him. To finally come together and never let go. 

Harry didn’t know what to say. He was afraid of the words that might come out of his mouth, afraid he might ask Louis if he felt the same electricity whenever Harry looked at him. He tore his eyes away from Louis’s lips, the sight of them being more painful than the pleasure itself of the image of him kissing them. He found Louis staring at him, his eyes searching. He was debating with himself, Harry was sure of it. Harry couldn’t even begin to imagine what being in Louis’s head must be like, if Louis was going through the same turmoil he was. 

Louis sighed and moved his head to rest against Harry’s chest. 

“I think I’m gonna go home,” Louis said. Harry felt his lips move against his chest, above his heart. It was an intoxicating feeling and the words took a moment to sink in. Suddenly, Harry froze. He felt his heart sink. 

“What? No, Louis, no. You can’t do that.” He was tugging at Louis’s arm, trying to get him to move so he could look into his eyes, as if his words would sink in deeper then. Louis complied, not before putting his hand on Harry’s chest. 

“Just for a week, Harry. I need to go home. It’s too much here.” 

Relief flooded Harry’s veins. He realised Louis probably had made up his mind hours ago. 

“If that’s what you need.” 

“I’ll be back by the time final rehearsals start.” He looked into Harry’s eyes reassuringly. “It’s not like I have a solo, anyway.” 

Harry smiled sadly. That had been a recurrent topic ever since they’d started their X Factor journey. Louis never got any solo parts and it frustrated him to death. He felt underappreciated, to the point he doubted he even deserved to be there. The other boys had tried to fight for him, but their coach never gave in. 

The nights after their performances Harry could only hug him tight and whisper in his ear that he deserved his spot, that his place was in this competition, next to him and the other three guys. He told him how beautiful his voice was, how it fit perfectly with the others’. And that’s exactly what he did that night. 

They fell asleep holding each other. Harry was the big spoon and Louis was curled up between his arms, holding his arms tight around him. 

When Harry woke up the next morning Louis was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to know if you liked it (or if you didn't). See you soon for the second part!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://ladsbeingpals.tumblr.com).


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